


The Rainbow Connection

by Deathraptor22



Series: Semi-Domestic Adventures [4]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Inspired By The Explanation for Why Mulder was Immune to the Subliminal messages in "Wetwired.", Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 10:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathraptor22/pseuds/Deathraptor22
Summary: What begins with a wrong crayon ends with Mulder showing Sam the word through his eyes. Or at least the most important parts of it.





	The Rainbow Connection

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The X-Files.

It all could have been avoided if they had sprung for crayons with labels.  
“Can you pass me the green, Papa?” Sam asked, laid out on the floor with her father, the pair of them surrounded by crayons, and paper. Her little arm was just too short to reach the green.  
Over the years Fox William Mulder had found ways of coping Deuteranopia. He could use tiny distinctions and shade and brightness to deduce what to most was obvious. However, still, this one time, he managed to grab the wrong crayon.  
“That’s purple Papa.” Sam told him.  
“Sorry, honey.” Mulder said, putting the crayon down and this time, picking up and handing her the correct crayon.  
That might have been the end hand Samantha Scully Mulder’s not been both her parent’s daughter. As such she began to pick up on things she had never noticed before. A moment’s hesitation before picking up an unlabeled condiment container, looking at picture intently, scrutinizing it, like when he was absorbed in a case. Though that one probably had an alternate explanation.  
“Mommy, is something wrong with Papa’s eyes?” Sam asked, the next Saturday, over a bowel of Crunch Berries.  
“Why would you think that?” Scully asked sitting down with her own bowel.  
Sam told Scully about the crayon, and the bottle and the picture. “Is he okay?”  
Scully smiled. “Papa’s fine, he just---sees things on a different spectrum.” Then realizing that probably went over their five-year-old’s head, explained, “He’s what is called red-green colorblind. What that means is that he had trouble seeing certain colors, mainly red and green, but sometimes grey, purple and particularly greenish blue-green. Sometimes the colors just look dimer. Is this making sense, sweetie?”  
Mulder just happened to be on a run while all this was happening, coming to a stop when his phone went off. “Hey, Scully.” He greeted her when he answered.  
“Hey,” Scully repeated, “Can you come home? We have ah but a, um, situation.” That was when he heard a little girl crying in the background.  
“What’s happen?” Mulder demanded urgently, turning around and running twice as fast, his eyes, darting back and forth looking for a cab so he could get there faster, “What’s wrong?”  
“Calm down, no one’s hurt.” Scully assured him quickly, “Sam just asked me something and…”  
By the time he made it back home Scully had explained the situation. When he opened the door, she was Sam still in her nightgown sobbing in Scully’s arms. Her head turned around as Mulder walked through the door, suddenly struggling to get out of her mother hold asked, “Papa, are you okay?”  
“Of course, I’m okay.” Mulder replied, coming over to the couch and sitting down next to her, “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”  
“Because you don’t know the hand’s red!” Sam exclaimed, fresh tears coming.  
“The red hand?” Mulder repeated sincerely confused as to what she meant.  
“At the crosswalk!” Sam explained, “The one that tells you if it’s safe to walk or not. You can’t see red so you don’t know if it’s safe and you could get hit by a car!”  
“I can still see the hand.” Mulder told her, “I still know what it means. It’s perfectly safe for me to walk at a crosswalk.”  
Sam sniffled. “Really?”  
“Really.” Mulder grinned in spite of the situation, running his fingers through her hair, “What I got, it’s not as terrible as you’ve made it in your mind. I mean, it’s certainly not fun, but I can live a completely normal life with a little extra care, and no one even notices. I mean, you did, but your very observant.”  
“Observant?” Sam repeated, not knowing what that word meant.  
“It just means you’re very good at noticing things.” Mulder explained, “And it’s probably made me a better profiler.”  
“How?” Sam asked.  
“Because, training in noticing those little details like shade and brightness and shade allow me to make fine distinctions-distinctions, that just a big word for differences- to notice what other people don’t.” Mulder explained, “To remember words and details. It also taught be how to question things. I mean how do I know that purple is really purple? Not to mention it saved my life one time.”  
“How?” Sam inquired.  
“Well, there were these subliminal messages that were…”Mulder began.  
“Ah, Mulder.” Scully cut him off. She didn’t think Sam was ready to hear about all that yet.  
“You know what, I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Mulder promised.  
Sam was disappointed at the story being cut off, when suddenly another question formed in her mind. “What do we look like to you? Me and Mommy?”  
Mulder was quiet for a moment. Finally, his said, still stroking Sam’s hair, “In dim light of the basement office Mommy’s hair the rich warm color of a sunbeam. In the cathedral light of some old-growth forest, it takes on an entirely different color. The color of life, as least the color of life I see, blending into the layers of the foliage. Your hair gets that sunbeam color whenever you’re inside and sometimes when you’re out in the sun. When the light through the trees is just right, it gets a milder version of the forest. Red doesn’t even begin to describe it. Blue’s the one color I see like everyone else does, and you and your mother have prettiest blue eyes, like sky blue, or sea blue.”  
“It sounds pretty.” Sam smiled.  
“It is.” Mulder confirmed, still missing with her hair.  
Twelve Years Later  
“How does it look?” Sam asked, feeling at the dress with her hand and her mother finished making the adjustments. It was a week before prom and she had finally saved enough for the dress she’d been eying.  
“Gorgeous.” Scully answered, not believing this day had actually arrived. “Now, go show your father.”  
Sam walked into the living room, where Mulder had been banished. “What do you think, Pop?”  
“Nice.” Mulder commented. It was nearly floor length and covered everything that needed covering.  
Feeling playful Sam asked, “What color is it?”  
Mulder smirked. “It’s green, isn’t it?” Why else would she asked.  
“Mint, actually.” Sam told him, flashing him cheeky little smile.

**Author's Note:**

> The last time skip is only temporarily. I just thought it'd be a good way to end the story. When next we meet Sam will be five again.


End file.
